The Wedding Bell Rock
by rainydaydreams
Summary: In which a drunken Reyna decides to speak up at the highly publicized wedding of Jason and Piper. Chaos ensues. :: AU. Oneshot.


**WHOOH BIRTHDAY! SWEET SIXTEEN! Presents are welcomed in the form of reviews. OHYES, beware the mammoth oneshot-ness of this. It's honestly the longest thing I've ever written. But if you take into account that this is about a year old from conception to actually writing to posting it, it's okay. I love it. THIS IS TOTALLY AU. Don't take too seriously. It's lighthearted. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that Rick owns. Also I made a SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS reference somewhere in there. And used a 300 quote. And Hercules The Disney Movie quotes. And a Paramore quote. BUT I THINK THAT IS IT. But I do own the lovely BOB AND SUE. **

**EDIT: It turns out, actually, that I DO NOT OWN THE LOVELY BOB AND SUE EITHER. They are from Beauty Queens by Libba Bray, and I inadvertently used them. *eternal shame* Also I forgot to mention the Taylor Swift songs. **

**REVIEW, please. *explodes in birthday cuteness***

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><p>The Wedding Bell Rock<p>

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><p>Her foot eases up on the pedals, survival instinct kicking in. Trying to rescue her from what is up ahead. (What is up ahead, you ask? It's quite a horrible sight. One that you will never be able to rid your mind of. It will haunt you at night, disrupting your sleep, corrupting your dreams. It is the wedding hall. Where <em>the wedding<em> is taking place. And the paparazzi are already flashing pictures of the unfashionably early. But more on that in a minute.) But to recap: her foot was easing up on the pedals. It had been doing so, in a sneaky, covert manner, for the last hour, until at last they were moving at the whopping speed of 0 miles per hour.

Ordinarily, her car-mates would be protesting. Ordinarily, she would be driving like an overworked secretary overdosed on caffeine. But ordinarily, they would not be wearing dresses (with actual skirts!) and heels (that are actually heels!) and makeup (actually on their faces!). (Or in Percy's case, a tie and dress shoes. "Man heels. I feel unmanly.") Because ordinarily, they would not be paralyzed with disgust at the sight in front of them: a huge, white building, red carpet adorned with rose petals and paparazzi. Because ordinarily, they would not be high-profile guests of _the wedding_.

::::

Bob: Well, Sue. This is shaping up to be one of the most publicized events of the decade.

Sue: You're right, Bob. And have you seen the guest list? They've got that Canadian military man, the surgeon general, the marine biologist… this list is like an event planner's wildest dreams, Bob!

Bob: Not to mention the architect lady who designed the new white house.

Sue: Yes. Nasty fire, that was. But the new design is gorgeous. Makes me want to run for president myself, Bob.

Bob: I know what you mean, Sue. But that would mean I wouldn't have the pleasure of covering t_he wedding _with all of you lovely viewers at home!

Sue: I know! We're incredibly lucky. Now, as you've all been hearing, the design for her dress is top-secret. I, for one, can not wait to see it.

Bob: She did have a lot of input in it, of course. And she's been working with many different known designers. McQueen, Chanel. It's going to be spectacular.

Sue: Looks like more guests are arriving. I wonder who they are, Bob.

Bob: We'll see soon, right after this commercial break. Stay tuned for the live coverage of _the Jasper wedding._

::::

It starts with a suggestion from a publicity agent. It leads to a staged proposal in the middle of Central Park. It spawns magazine covers and speculations and elegant invitation cards (RSVP only, please). It is one of these invitations that causes Annabeth to be slowly, sneakily slowing down in their car, mere metres from their destination. Percy reaches out to her from his lair in the passenger seat, which he has been inhabiting for their three-day road trip to this strange land most people would refer to as Florida. She takes his hand, drawing strength from him to force herself to keep going. But she's paralyzed with dread, disgust, and the overall energy-draining effect that makeup has on her. He meets her eyes, and in that look, she can see the silent agreement that when they get married, it will be on the beach. And Grover will be the minister. Juniper can be the flower girl. And the food will be marshmallows and cherry coke. If only he'd actually ask her…

A noise from the back breaks the silence in the car. Reyna has been steadily drinking herself into oblivion, sprawled out in a dress shirt and business skirt and classic pumps ("I need to look classy. It'll offset the drunkenness."). Now, she raises the glass bottle to her lips, toasting the mutual disgust they all feel, sitting in front of this gaudy white building, red carpet and rose petals everywhere.

"Come on. Let's get this over with."

::::

Bob: More guests, Sue. And speak of the devil, it's the architect. Annabeth Chase.

Sue: Time referred to her as one of the brightest and best under 25, you know.

Bob: And she's with her boyfriend, that guy from Harvard. Percy Jackson. He's discovered at least three new aquatic species and he's shows no signs of stopping.

Sue: They make quite the power couple. And who knows, we might be back in a couple of months for their wedding!

Bob: And who is that with them? Oh, it's that lady, Reyna. Running for secretary of defense, isn't she?

Sue: She looks a bit unsteady, don't you think?

::::

"Reyna, Reyna! Look over here!"

The lights are blinding her. It doesn't help that she's slightly inebriated. Okay, she's totally drunk. But she's always been a good faker.

"Whoa, looking a little unsteady there. Are you drunk? Reyna, are you drunk?"

Son of a bitch. As if it's not totally tacky to be flashing pictures in the middle of the day. But it's time to fake: "No, sir. Just not used to these heels. Aren't they pretty, though?" She giggles for effect. No, she's not going to get that position this election. Maybe next time.

But they buy it: "Who are you wearing, Reyna?"

Prada. She thinks.

::::

So much for being the youngest president ever, Jason thinks. If these nerves are anything to go by, he won't even be able to talk in front of a crowd, forget actually getting elected. But nerves are normal, right? If you consider the fact that he's getting married to the girl of his dreams (or nightmares. Like last night. When she was running after him in a creepy zombie outfit, yelling about guest lists and napkin colours.) along with the fact that he's getting married at the age of 24, you can forgive his nerves. He's not ready for this. But if he wants to impress America enough, he needs to show them that he's that faithful all-American boy they want. According to Betty, his publicity agent, at any rate.

Still, this is a bit much. He doesn't know more than half of the people that are coming. Actually, he doesn't even know who he's getting married to anymore. He doesn't even remember a time when their conversations were about anything more than napkins colour and whether or not they should seat people based on Twilight teams.

But it's just pre-wedding jitters, right?

::::

She should be happy. She's getting her fairytale wedding. The type of wedding that little girls have dreamt about since the age of 5 all over the world. She's getting the gorgeous place and gorgeous shoes and gorgeous hubby and gorgeous dress…

Actually, she hates the dress. Whose idea was it to infuse a Grecian grown with a corset? She can barely breathe. Sure, she looks great. But she'd rather look great alive than dead. And besides, she doesn't even like corsets. She'd prefer the bohemian look. But if she wants to impress Hollywood enough, she needs to show them that she's that elegant, Hepburn-esque actress they want. According to Sandra, her publicity agent, anyways.

She can deal with the dress and massive guest list. She's done so before, at that charity gala for the whales, and that Halloween ball. But this time, on her special day, it feels like something is missing. Like some_one_ is missing. But who?

::::

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (only it is not a ranch, but a very high-tech garage), Leo is trying to drown his sorrows in motor oil. But he ends up drowning the engine of the Impala that he is working on. All around him, the various screens mounted on the wall are blaring coverage of _the_ _wedding_. He hates it. But he's always been sort of self-destructive, and he can't help himself. He wonders if they notice he's not there. He wonders if they notice that he hasn't spoken to them in years. Not since she became that beautiful actress following in her father's footsteps, and he became the all-American politician and they became _Jasper_. No room for the Latino sidekick.

But he hasn't done too badly, for a sidekick. He's patented hundreds of inventions, including the carbon dioxide converter that all cars use now. He's a billionaire, and he has no intention of stopping. But he can't deny that he's not living the rich bachelor life he's expected to. He can't deny that he's in love (or lust), but they're _Jasper_, and he sees no point in breaking them apart. Even he wouldn't be able to fix what he broke. So they're better off without him. And he's better off without her.

One of the channels suddenly change to some cartoon depicting statues dancing and singing: "Who'd you think you're kidding, (s)he's the earth and heaven to you."

He hits his forehead on the roof of the engine. Great. Another bruise.

"Honey, we can see right through you…"

The statue ladies are talking to him. Is he hallucinating?

"We know how you're feeling and who you're thinking of…"

Yup. They're talking to him. Perhaps he hit his head harder than he thought. Or maybe this is a sign of some sort. What are they telling him?

"It's okay, you're in love."

Okay, Leo's not exactly a genius. But he's plenty smart, and at any rate, he didn't need to be a genius to figure out what the statue ladies are telling him.

"But what do I do, strange statue ladies?"

The channel suddenly changes again to a video of a redhead beating up a microphone. Wait, no. She's singing into it. To him.

"Why don't you stand up, be a man about it? Fight with your bare hands about it?"

Yes! That's what he'll do! He's going to be a man and march right over there and tell them how he feels and then she'll run away with him and they'll live happily ever after. Wait, but he's in Houston. And they're in Florida. He's never been one for geography, but he's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to walk there before they get married. No matter. He didn't invent the Leo-mobile for nothing.

As he leaves the garage, the channel changes again. A group of sweaty, muscled men are seen. One of them shouts: "Spartans! Ready your breakfast and eat hearty… For tonight, we dine in hell!"

::::

"Lisa. Lisa!"

The weary assistant sighs and answers the snarky British voice on her earpiece. "Yes, Julia?"

"Lisa, are the roses in? You know that the roses need to be scattered before any of the guests start sitting down. Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, Julia. They've already been scattered. The ushers are seating guests right now."

"Good. Now get the wine from the bridesmaids. They're getting tipsy. And have Paul talk to the press. They asked about Angelina about her latest pregnancy, and that's a bit too brazen for my taste."

"Yes, Julia."

She's definitely not paid enough for this.

::::

And while Lisa the overworked secretary is sighing and Piper is trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in her stomach and Jason is breathing in and out and Annabeth is trying not to trip in her heels and Percy is wondering whether he should propose or not and Reyna is sneaking covert sips of alcohol and the Stoll brothers are sucking up to the rich bitch beside them and Leo is driving at the speed of almost light, the world is glued to their television sets, their cell phone screens and the familiar homepage of _the_ _Jasper_ _wedding_ website. (Yes, they have a website. It's _Jasper_. What did you expect?)

The world is waiting for that familiar chord to start. Because they know that it's going to be one heck of a show.

::::

The bells ring. Sandra, her publicity agent, insisted on them, saying that they would show a love of old-school tradition and elegance. Piper thinks they're stupid.

::::

The chords start. To Jason, it sounds like a funeral hymn. Piper starts down the aisle, holding her fathers arm. She looks beautiful. But he can't help thinking of his zombie dream.

::::

The Stoll brothers give up on the rich bitch. She's obviously immune to their charm. Perhaps she plays for the other side. Oh well.

::::

Grover yawns. This is really boring.

::::

Leo is almost there. So close, he can practically smell the perfume and boredom of the wedding hall. So close he can almost hear the minister droning on and on…

::::

The minister is really bored. But he's getting paid quite a lot, so he keeps on droning. He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore, but it doesn't matter. The two in front of him don't care. Actually, the guy looks like he's asleep. He'll wake up in time for the kiss. They always do. Just a couple more lines, the minister thinks. And he can go home. Have a beer.

::::

"And if any oppose this marriage, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

::::

Silence.

::::

Cough.

::::

As the minister opens his mouth to say those famous lines, Reyna stands up. Her palms are sweaty, her heart is racing and her mouth is not dry, owing to all the beer. Everyone stares at her. They're staring at her like, _Finally_. Something interesting. She's nervous. What is she supposed to do? She regrets not watching more chick flicks.

She would be happy standing there, just staring back at the crowd, but Piper coughs rudely, and she's jolted back to the fact that she has just stood up. At the _speak_ _now_ part of the wedding. So she should do something. She panics, slightly.

"Um…what was that song? Wait, I have it. _Drew looks at meeeeeee, I fake a smile so he won't seeeeeee_ - wait, no. That's not right."

This reminds her of something she's been meaning to ask. She turns around, and says, "Hey, Drew. How come she refers to you as a guy in that song?"

Drew looks up from her nails. She flips her hair (grazing the eye of the man behind her) and says, "I know, right? I gave that bitch the best week of her life, and she turns our relationship into some pathetic love story to get fans?"

Connor Stoll looks over at her. "Wait, that was you? You mean you're a lesbian?"

Drew looks him over. "Bi. Love goes both ways."

He grins. "Sweet."

Piper decides to take this moment to cough loudly and rudely. It's not classy, but it's pretty damn effective.

Reyna jumps. "Oh yeah. Wait, I got it. Someone play the guitar or something."

An Apollo guy conveniently pulls out a guitar and starts strumming the chords.

"Okay, here goes_. Don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you at the back_ - I forget the rest. Does anyone know?"

The audience looks at each other. It is at this moment that the doors of the hall burst open, revealing a panting Leo, bent over, hands on his knees. In between coughs, he manages to get out: "Piper -" _pant_ "- don't -" _cough_ "-I love you."

The rest is lost in wheezing, but the meaning is, the world thinks, quite clear.

::::

"Finally." Reyna breaks the shocked silence in the hall.

::::

Commercial break.

::::

The world is glued to the screen. What will happen next? What will they do? Is this the end of _Jasper_?

Magazine covers are being rapidly changed from the fairytale angle to that of a daytime soap opera. Tweets are pouring in: "JasperForEVAH: RAWR. Cat fight." "BitchNo: This is better than the damn superbowl. Or the time that Clairy and Edward were supposed to get married but she went into labour AND ALL THESE EMOTIONS."

The world is waiting. What _ever_ will happen next?

::::

Piper is torn. She can't believe Leo would do something like this. Wait, yes she can. And frankly, she finds it incredibly romantic. She looks at Jason who is simply watching them, and she realizes that she isn't torn. Not one bit. And she knows what she's going to do.

She starts walking down the aisle - the wrong way - pulling off her horrible wedding dress to reveal denim shorts and a tube top. She can hear Sandra gasping and grins. It turns out that Piper is not classy or elegant. And she loves it.

Leo grins at her, that crazy, wild grin, and she grins back. She takes his hand, he takes her heart, and they run.

::::

Silence.

::::

Cough.

::::

Jason realizes that they're all watching him. He knows that this moment will define his political career. And he doesn't much care, because he's suddenly starving. So he knows what to do: he asks the minister for his mike, and says: "Sometimes in life, things happen and you just need to be strong - actually, forget it. I'm starving, and you guys came to eat anyways. Let's go have some food."

The applause that was intended for the two of them to be joined in holy matrimony is let loose right now, much more sincere than it would have been. He's given a standing ovation.

And he just grins.

::::

Over the tumultuous applause, Annabeth can hear Percy.

"Will you marry me?"

And she knows he can hear her when she says, "Yes."

::::

The kitchen is in chaos. The food is getting burnt or not plated and simply not served. The stove is not working and the sinks are piled with dishes. The servers are yelling themselves hoarse, and frankly, they all want to go home and get served by other people. It is complete cacophony, and Jason loves it. Unfortunately, he also loves to eat.

Reyna sidles into the kitchen. She takes one look at the mess that is their food, looks at him and nods.

They know what to do.

::::

The reception is a smash hit. Everyone has a generous supply of alcohol ("Drunk guests won't notice that the napkins are missing or not properly folded or whatever." Says Reyna. This proves to be true several times over.) The food is great. ("All you need to have to run a kitchen is good aim." Says Jason, right before he kicks the stove in the exact right spot to get it working again.) Guests are actually having fun, and this in itself is a lovely surprise.

::::

It lasts into the night. A dictatorship starts and crashes. ("All redheads, rise! REDHEAD SUPREMACY FOR THE WIN!") Several relationships start and several are broken. Hazy pictures surface on the internet of a dark, throbbing mass of bodies dancing and drinking and generally partying.

It is beautiful.

::::

It is nearing morning when Jason decides he's had enough. He walks out, after arranging for a fleet of cabs to take everyone home, and wanders down the empty roads of 3 am. He's never been more at peace.

Up ahead, he can see another body, walking unsteadily down the centre of the road. It's Reyna. Jason speeds up. Faster, faster.

"Reyna. Wait up!"

::::

A year later, a smaller group of people congregate at a smaller venue. It's a restaurant, filled with quirky details that make it well-loved. The owners of the restaurant are currently experimenting with seafood, to fit the theme of today's affair.

"Jason, I don't think Percy would like eating his minions. It's just not nice."

"Come on, Reyna. He'd love it. And besides, they aren't his minions."

"Says him."

He throws an arm around her and she smiles at him. He's adorable, and she loves him. But he's not serving seafood at Percy and Annabeth's wedding. It's just wrong.

(And she's always been creeped out by how the fish stare at you.)

::::

"And blah blah blah, speak now or forever hold your peace."

::::

Silence.

::::

"You guys can kiss now."

::::

Tumultuous applause.

::::

"Will you marry me, Drew?"

She looks him over. "Okay."

"You're supposed to be all, OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOU CONNOR. AND YOU HAVE SEXY HAIR!"

"Shut up." She kisses him.

::::

"I told you he'd hate seafood."

"How was I supposed to know?"

"Uh, because I told you so?"

"Whatever."

They grin at each other.

::::

And that was all.


End file.
